Through the Ages
by KnightsOTRound
Summary: Accounts of Watari's life before his death as well as coping with the first year of being a shinigami.


Watari Yutaka did not think much of spirits, nor did he pray often. Being a scientist neither of those influenced his life. He was young; a student and an idealist. Because of his associated generation and ignorance of most Buddhist teachings; he became an active participant in the "Bain of the future". The one he hoped to never disappoint; however, became his deepest regret. His mother took him to the festivals, coaxed him with treats, and desperately tried to get the boy to join in on the countries most basic of practices. It didn't have to do with religion; as much as, it had to do with normal Japanese behavior. He just didn't see the point in some of the everyday rituals.

He took the bait; however, until the age of 13.

It was Showa 39; the year Yutaka stopped cutting his hair and seriously focused on his main passion. Shortly after, he moved out; fearing disgrace of the family name from his blatant lack of interest. His father had aspirations of his son ruling the family business as most fathers' had. This did not include science. Thus the boy pulled away, moved to a less chaotic section of Kyoto, and avoided most associations with the Watari Shipping Corporation. WSC grew steadily leading up to the 1940's. Their popularity extended particularly when they became the main source of weaponry shipments for World War II. The opposition of such principles became the first real distaste Yutaka noticed about his father's business.

Seven long years passed; three of which, focused solely on self study. The boy frequently visited the local library; checking out books on experimental mechanics, chemistry and every other applied sciences. Yutaka sipped his genmai tea- cross-legged, with one hand navigating nimbly through his latest read.

His hair now reached the middle of his back, and his eyes grew weak from squinting through uncut golden strands. Not one second was to be spared from vigorous research. The continually blurring words created dire impedance to his research and pushed the boy out of the library for a day; glasses now propped firmly on his nose and a bright orange ribbon kept the ever lengthening hair from his face.

Yutaka wore a pair of faded gray jeans; formally black, with a light green t-shirt. Even with the central air the august heat became quite a battle. Every time he sipped his tea his body would seemingly overheat. He enjoyed the drink; none the less, wiping his glasses every now and then as the steam clouded his eyesight.

The boy sighed. He felt as though he'd read this same sentence a dozen or so times over, and not from the same book, but from multiple ones reinforcing similar ideas and concepts. He knew the information inside and out as well as referenced materials that didn't appear in the average text book. He knew the applications of these sciences as well and now had a choice to make.

_'__Where do I go from here?__'_ He mused.

He sat.

He listened.

And for the first time he put down the book with a certain weight that did not honor the information he held in his hand. The loud thud made a few heads turn, but with its sound came a resolute choice.

He would attend a university.

Yutaka knew full well that he didn't have the secondary schooling necessary to pass entry levels or the paper certified skills to even attempt an application. He did; however, have the dedication to make it through Juku; a choice he didn't particularly like, but deemed necessary if he wanted to take his knowledge any where in life.

Such things, he later found, could be dealt with.

His next conquests involved the educational system within the Kyoto area. Luckily he got to know a professor; one came in looking for a similar book and took to settling near Yutaka to retrieve it.

The elder sat near him; silent, and for ten minutes watched the boy scribble notes between two notebooks.

The need to prepare his next class required specific information, and drove the older man to speak.

Yutaka barely lifted his head when he responded to the man's question, and not out of a non-honorific stance; far from it. The man would become his mentor and closest friend. But as of now, they remained strangers.

"May I ask what University you attend?"

"I have no college obligations, sir." Watari calmly stated- finally glancing into similarly spectacled eyes though the teachers were of a dark grey rather than the youth's amber.

"None? Then why are you studying so intensely?"

"Curiosity, it would seem."

"How old are you?"

"20". Watari looked back at his pages, slightly worried as if the professor's eyes could wipe clean all of his painstaking efforts with just one glance.

"I teach a class on Mechanics and Chemistry, it starts it two weeks, you should enroll."

"I have no money, nor did I fully complete Koukou."

"But you have a professor's recommendation, and that can get you a scholarship."

The amber eyes became lighter and a smile quickly formed. An idealist indeed.

"Meet me here tomorrow. I'll be preparing for my classes in the private room down the east hallway. Then we'll see about your schooling."

"Arigatou Gozaimashita, I'd be honored to be your student."

"See you at 2."

The professor took the book and disappeared behind the thick library doors.

The first time the blonde learned of this professor's name was in class; more specifically, the slip of paper that detailed his semester's schedule.

And similarly smiling eyes met his form during class when he called "hai" as his name rang out from his professor's lips. Roll call took over 70 students; a class size that opened the youth up to various social groups. He wasn't anti-social; his segregation was always by choice and nothing he particularly feared. It served him well as he took kindly to the multitude of students. A social butterfly he was once deemed by a cute red head.

His grades surpassed many, and his insights became sought after before tests and exams. The students clung to the boys reports and soon after all his education was unquestionably paid for; even without the recommendation his teacher wrote for him anyway. The years ahead brought a swarm of warmth around the previously wandering adult; now found, for the time being.


End file.
